


Illumination

by ShinySherlock ficlets (ShinySherlock)



Series: assorted tumblr ficlets [26]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Duran Duran - Freeform, First Kiss, Inspired by Music, M/M, POV First Person, Trapped In A Closet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-17
Updated: 2013-10-17
Packaged: 2017-12-29 17:18:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1008023
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShinySherlock/pseuds/ShinySherlock%20ficlets
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock trapped in a dark cupboard, and all John wants is some light on the subject.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Illumination

**Author's Note:**

  * For [i_ship_an_armada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_ship_an_armada/gifts).



> Armada requested Duran Duran’s “Is There Something I Should Know?” + Johnlock. Youtube video with lyrics [here](http://youtu.be/-elF08oAHa8).

You’re standing very close to me in such a way that with anyone else I’d know exactly what that meant, but you’re you, and this territory is shifting sand.

“Sherlock. Is there something—” No. Finishing that sentence will just lead to mockery, so I shift to the practical. “Is there anything we can use as leverage?”

The cupboard we are currently locked inside of is muggy and dark, and I can barely see the outline of your shape two feet in front of me. You’re methodically feeling along the shelves around us, trying to find something to pry open the door, but without any source of light it’s a bit difficult and there’s barely any room to turn in here anyway.

“Not over here,” you answer, and there’s the slightest tone of anxiety in your voice. You turn suddenly and I find my back pressed to the shelves, my face smashed into cashmere as you try to search the shelves behind me — by going _through_ me, apparently.

“Hey!” I protest into your scarf. You ignore me entirely as you press your body along the front of mine.

And this is what I’m (not) talking about.

There’s you, saying “not my area,” and “married to my work,” not showing any interest in even touching another human being except for the rare hug to Mrs. Hudson.

And then there’s you with the looks, and the touches, and whatever you’re doing right now, and were you anyone else, Sherlock, these would be signs, they would be giving you away.

But nothing with you is easy.

There are days on end when you don’t even register my presence (or my absence). And there are moments when all your formidable attention is so focused on me that it burns, and Iittle fiery demons surround you, tempting me, showing me what it might be like, that.

And so I want. God help me, I want.

My hands curl and uncurl at my sides, resisting the urge to reach around you, to pull you down by the scruff of your goddamn neck, and I’m fairly sure you can feel me against you, and God, this probably isn’t going to go well, but you started it, with the pressing, and the _wriggling_ —

The crash is rather spectacular.

Several (thankfully) soft things bounce off the top of my head and something made of glass has fallen against the tiled floor and broken, releasing a strong scent of dill and vinegar.

Fantastic. We are now surrounded by liberated pickles and an avalanche of what I think are rolls of toilet paper because you were startled by my erection. How that can possibly surprise you is beyond my comprehension, and yet I feel that my attraction to you might be beyond yours, and so here we are, stuck in this damn closet together, and I think, maybe, I’ve hit my limit.

I clear my throat. “If you could just …tell me. Now, please. What you want.”  I pause, but you’re silent, and I can’t stop myself from filling the emptiness. “Just. Tell me anything you think I ought to know, because I don’t know it, all right? And I’d really fucking appreciate it if you’d shed some bloody light on this … area. Okay?”

You say exactly nothing.

You’re going to fucking kill me with these silences.

But then I feel the tug on my lapel, and now I’m tripping over myself and God knows what else to get to you. Your hand slides to my face, catching my jaw as I reach up in the darkness to find you.

You open your mouth against mine immediately, and my hands rush up to fist in your hair. Your fingers are eager, sliding underneath my coat. Already one hand curls around me while the other cups my arse, presses us closer.

This kiss is messy and fast. We’re breathing roughly through our noses, unwilling to disconnect for even a moment, and I want to fucking own your mouth. I run my tongue against yours and your whole body writhes against me and God, I really should have just trusted my instincts with you because look at you, so responsive, so hungry — how long have you been waiting for me to say something?

You reach up with one hand, laying it against mine, and untangle my fingers from your hair. At first I think you’re objecting to it, but then you guide my hand downward. I let myself be led, and you settle my fingers against your own erection, bounded by clothes but firm and insistent against my palm. Your other hand grips me more tightly, and I mimic the motion on you, and the moan you pour into my throat is nearly liquid desire, and I return it eagerly.

Can’t talk. Can’t think. I am raging, delicious want, touching and groaning in counterpoint with you. We should have done this ages ago.

Noises at the edge of my consciousness threaten. One ear concentrates on deciphering them while the other takes in every breath, every sound you make as I squeeze my hand around you, slide my lips against yours.

I know the moment you hear them, too, by the feel of your lips.

Footsteps.

“John—”

I close my eyes and swear.

There’s the sound of something electric whirring away at the lock of the door.

Lestrade’s voice asking if we’re all right.

“Go away,” you bellow, and you dip your head towards me for one more searing kiss.

I pull away first.

“Let’s go home,” I say, and I can feel your smile.

My hands release you and you fasten your coat.

The door opens and the light spills in.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Comments always appreciated. <3  
> (And if you're looking for more to read, I made a [fic index](http://shinysherlock.tumblr.com/post/105509221665) of my stuff by category which I hope is helpful.)


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